Three Dead Men
by Max Quinn
Summary: Dean meets the Doctor and Jack and follows them on a wild adventure to New New Orleans where they meet an old enemy...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello, fellow readers! Yeah, I know. It's been a while. I wrote this cos I was bored in math class, and when my beta, (Madarao the Authoress, check her out she's brilliant), read it, she insisted on me adding it to FF, so here it is. I hope you like it. A special thanks to my beta, Madarao the Authoress! Check her out, she's brilliant! Let's go! You know what? I need a better word…. How about this: **_**Allons-y!**_

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_Every year around the same time, the tenth regeneration of a certain Time Lord visits my sister; he turns directions and smiles on the parallel universe, casting a glow on Rose Tyler and his clone. Rose Tyler's name often rises above the chattering voices in his head, slowly nibbling on his sanity. The Carrionites knew, the companions and Torchwood knew… the Cult of Skaro must have known before the last of them were killed by the one-hearted Time Lord who was later cast into the parallel universe with Rose. Sadly, by the man who loved her the most. Only one knows him by his name, but we know him as the most important man in the universe: The Doctor._

The Doctor was alone in New York. He was just going back for a visit. Shows, drinks, rockettes, and rock stars seemed to be all the glamour, but after thinking of the memories he shared with an earlier companion, he decided to leave with no words said. The Doctor made his way to the TARDIS with a heavy heart. With a snap of his fingers, he expected the door to fly open, revealing the much coveted inside. The door, however, did not open to the Doctor's command. He began to snap rapidly, but the door still remained closed. The Doctor took a sharp step and tried to open it by the handle. To no avail, the door to the TARDIS kept itself shut. He reached inside his shirt and felt his neck in hopes of finding the key attached to a brown string. No key was found.

"Hello, Doctor."

The Doctor spun around and cringed at what his eyes beheld. Who he saw was none other than the impossible Captain Jack Harkness from the re-created Torchwood society.

"Jack?"

Jack winked and gave the Doctor his killer smile. "Lemme finish your first sentence." He paused before he let out a faked British accent. "What?"

It hadn't been long since Dean had lost his father to Azazel, the same demon that had killed his mother when he was a child in 1983. Dean often thought of the time when he'd sold his soul to keep Sam alive, the same as his father did to keep _him_ alive. The pain from thinking of these times forced him into depression, meaning three things for Dean: Whiskey, meds, and… whiskey.

"Look, Dean. All I'm saying is that he gave his life for you, but he never would have done it for me." Sammy Winchester complained.

Dean's only reply was to sigh heavily. His brother was becoming a real pain in the ass… Not that Sam was always sweet as a unicorn fart.

"Daddy's boy, Dean-o! You always did what he said, so he sold his soul for you instead of me."

"Sam, just shut up. I did what Dad told me to, okay? You were always too caught up in your own life to give a freak about him."

"You're turning into him, Dean. All those damn secrets.

"What secrets?"

"The letters from Dr. Song, your new medication… and the key you protect with your life! What's the deal with all that?"

Dean turned red with fury and rubbed his hands through his hair. "It's none of your damn business, Sam. I'll tell you when I feel like it!" Although, Dean wasn't quite sure what it was about either. The key he'd found in the envelope containing his medical bill and the medicine was that much of a mystery to him as well as Sam.

Sam stepped quickly to a bedside table and lifted a capsule between his thumb and index finger. The clear liquid inside seemed to glow and sparkle in the dusty light.

"What kind of medicine looks like this? It freaking _glows_, Dean! Medicine doesn't glow! What's the prescription called, anyway?"

Dean snatched the capsule and chewed it like a piece of gum.

"It's not glowing anymore, now is it?"

"Just tell me what it is! Is it Paxil?"

"It's called huron!"

"There's no such thing!"

As their argument continued, Sam began to grow weary of the insults, so he turned his back on his brother quickly. Dean was already wearing on his nerves, but who cared as long as it stopped sometime soon? Sam's mind was frayed like a broken cord, not to mention the spinal cord that Dean had threatened to break so many times.

In mid-yell, Dean's voice drowned out when he saw a piece of string… Brown to be exact tied around Sam's neck.

"Sam. That better not be my key."

Sam hid the glimmer of the key in his black tee and faced Dean.

"No. It isn't."

Dean reached forward and jerked the string from Sam's neck, exposing the key. As Dean's anger grew, he began to dissolve as he yelled at his brother.

"I can't believe you took my key-" Dean stopped short and looked around him. "Where the hell am I?" Golden lights, a blue tube, and what seemed to be branches surrounded him. When he spotted the door, he opened it with ease.

Two men in long coats to their feet were arguing about 'Torchwood' and dignity. Dean stepped forward. "Shut up, son of a bitch! I've got a gun!"

The Doctor and Jack looked at Dean, then back at one another. Jack and the Doctor must have thought of the same thing at the same time, because their voices collided into one infamous line…

"What?"

It didn't take long for the Doctor and Jack to scare Dean into putting the gun down. He shot Jack multiple times in the chest because Jack had already started using his charm on Dean. The Doctor was able to talk Dean out of killing him by saying, "I'm good! I can regenerate!"

"He can fry your brain cells with his sonic screwdriver!" Jack's voice rang out.

"What the- I _killed_ you!" Dean's eyes grew wide as he shot aimlessly at Jack.

"He's an impossible thing. And if you shoot me, I'll just regenerate."

From a distance, they could both hear Jack take a gasping breath, which caused Dean to drop his gun.

The Doctor took a quick look over Dean. He had okay hair; not too short, not too tall; and he was wearing two necklaces. One was black with a protection amulet, and the other was brown with a key. The Doctor's jaw dropped at the sight, and his voice grew high-pitched and naïve. "He's got my key!"

"No… This is my key! My doctor gave it to me. I think…"

"Who is your doctor?"

"If you don't mind, I'd like to know who _you _are 'fore I share anything with you!"

Jack stepped in front of the Doctor and held his hand out with a smile. "Hellooo. I'm Jack."

"Jack! Stop-it!" The Doctor sighed with annoyance.

"What the hell are you? Some type of demon that can't die?" Dean was angry…

"Nah. I think I'm human, but I just can't die. Not too long ago, Doctor here exposed me to extreme radiation."

"I played with radiation in the nursery, Jack."

"Yeah? Well, that was 904 years ago! How would it treat you now, grampa?"

"I'm the Doctor."

Dean looked at him.

"The Doctor? Really?"

"Yes. Time Lord."

"And I'm Captain Jack. Human. One of the most important humans."

"What? Captain Jack Sparrow and Dr. Phil? Great. I've hit the damn motherload." Dean said sarcastically.

The Doctor sighed again and added, "Actually, Captain Jack Harkness and the Doctor. To put it straight forward, I'm an alien, and he can't die."

"Okay. I'm mother Mary reincarnated."

"Is it just me, or does he not believe us?" Jack asked the Doctor.

The Doctor reached to Dean's neck and pulled the key over his head. "This is my key for the TARDIS."

"For the what?"

"_T_ime _A_nd_ R_elative _D_imension _I_n _S_pace. It's kind of like a sports car for space."

Jack frowned. "He calls my time teleport a spacehopper."

Dean turned and looked at the blue box. "I could've sworn it was bigger than that!"

The Doctor ran a hand through his brown, gelled hair. "It defies basic… stuff. You know, matter. Humans made the rules for that, but they aren't always right. But please tell me your name."

"Dean."

"I'm the Doctor, and I can help you."

"Then tell me, Doctor. How'd I get here?"

"Let me get this straight," Dean started as he leaned on a branch of the TARDIS. "I have huron energy, which summoned me to the inside of your galactic… plant?"

The Doctor took a deep breath. "Yeah… but the question is _why_ and _who _prescribed the huron in your medicine. Why would we need to meet up?"

Jack replied quietly, "What's the name of your doctor? By the way, it's not him," He said, gesturing to the Doctor, "because he's taken by a blonde."

Dean looked at Jack like he was insane. "River Song. Doctor River Song."

The Doctor's eyes grew wide. "I've met her, but I haven't yet! She knew my name and I save her life by copying her into the mind of a little girl! I am so clever…"

At that moment, the TARDIS began to whir, and it took flight.

"Doctor, where are we going?" Jack screamed as he held tight to the control panel, legs flying behind him.

"I don't know! It's got a mind of its own!"

After several minutes, everything stopped.

"Dean must have passed out." the Doctor suggested.

"Yeah. I have that effect on people."

"Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

The Doctor and Jack Harkness waited for Dean to wake up. They didn't even open the door until they were sure that he wasn't going to lose consciousness again.

"Alright. Let's see where we are." the Doctor said as he opened the door slowly.

Dark alleyways with large drops of black rain slapped against the TARDIS.

"New New Orleans. On New Earth. We're on another planet."

The three of them began to walk down the streets. Graves, mortuaries, and people stared back at them as they stepped along.

"Uh… Doctor?"

"What, Jack?"

"Gelth!"

The Doctor turned around a dead woman that had just started to scream.

"_Run!"_


	2. Running Makes Life Fun

HI! New chapter. Sorry I didn't upload sooner! And to the ones of you who sent me death threats, I uploaded. Ya happy?

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Dean tried to keep up with the Doctor and Jack after what seemed to be at least half of a mile. Jack's blue coat was flying in the wind, while the Doctor's tan coat was resting in his arms while he ran.

"Doctor!" Dean stopped and hunched over his knees in a desperate attempt to catch his breath. Gasping, he managed to choke out a scratchy "She's gone."

The Doctor turned to look at Dean. "Gelth are never actually gone."

"What the hell are Gelth? That back there was a ghost!" Dean stood up straight.

"No, I'm afraid it was the blue fog."

"Why were we even running from it? It was just a ghost! I'm not a damn coward!"

"Oi! Running makes life fun! But, no." The Doctor curled his tongue inside his mouth and began to speak. "The Gelth are blue gases that must live in a high level of gas. Certain gas, like the kind in an oil lamp, can kill them. Kill them dead. But until they are exposed to that gas, they inhabit corpses and murder everything in their path. Not fun creatures unless you're handling them with Charles Dickens. Now that, that was brilliant," he added with a smile.

"Uh, I'm a supernatural expert. That was an evil spirit."

Jack groaned and looked at Dean. He gave him the look that said shut-up now. "Thanks, Dean. Now he's gonna give a lecture," Jack mumbled under his breath.

"You are nothing but human. What you see as a spirit is actually an alien. Another universe, another galaxy…. That's what it is. They feed off of your destruction."

"Then what are you, Doctor?"

The Doctor glanced at Dean.

"That's what I thought. You can't explain four months in hell. You can't explain witchcraft and pagan gods…. You can't even understand what a ghost is. You're an idiot."

"Witchcraft are carrionites. The science of words. Hell? Oh, it's real. I've been to the pit. Pagan gods? Still aliens that tried to crack the base code of the universe and failed miserably, left with small amounts of power. I am a Time Lord. I have saved your planet from total destruction many times and I could get out of this place using a kettle and piece of string. I am 904 years old and I watched my whole planet burn in the hot red sun. I have seen the bloodshed of many Time Lords and Gallifreyans. I have watched planets die. I fraternized with Death, and boy was it scary. She wanted me to be her disciple. I turned my best friend into a monster and lost him and I have died nine times; I murdered and saved along the way. Who am I? I am the Doctor. It's science."

"That wasn't classified science, Doctor. It was a spirit. I'll be damned before I let some Martian tell me I'm wrong in my area of expertise."

"What? Why do they always call me a Martian? Am I red and bug-like? Do I speak Sycorax? No."

"Doesn't matter. You're just as fugly as those bitches. "

Jack stepped between them, making it quite clear that he was the peacemaker. "Both of you, stop it! Dean, the blue fog is Gelth. It is alien. Doctor, there are such things as suspended dead souls."

The Doctor held his sonic screwdriver up. "Yes, but only in technology glitches." 

"Let me finish!" Jack was beginning to lose patience. "Dean, you're cool and have great taste in jeans. Doctor, you're handsome and have great hair. But don't get cocky, cause you're not as handsome as me. Is this settled now?"

Dean shrugged. "Then what is Gelth?"

"A living, breathing alien." The Doctor answered.

"I didn't ask you, Doctor. I asked Mr. Impossible over there."

"Well, I answered."

"Why?"

"Because I'm clever." The Doctor was getting much more angry than before.

Jack smiled. "Mr. Impossible, eh?"

"Well, Gelth have been around since the beginning of time. Like The Aracnoss."

Jack leaned against a brick wall in the dripping alleyway, shaking the thick moisture from his hair.

Dean fiddled with his fingers while staring at the Doctor. "Doctor, if there's one thing I know about dead people, it's that spirits and demons come back to take care of something that the dead body didn't finish."

Jack shot a sharp eye at Dean. "Are you used to being in charge of these things?"

"Kinda. I usually work with my brother, Sam, but he's been a bitch lately." As Dean finished his statement, a scream filled the skies. "Sounded like a banshee. Those things are whores, so I wouldn't go there."

The Doctor raised a brow at Dean and turned back to the street. Several men, middle aged were smoking pipes and singing loudly. "Drunkards," he murmured.

"Do they have beer here? I am thirsty." Dean asked the Doctor.

Boom, boom, boom!

Three gunshots blared in the still night, sending the three drunkards to their death. Out of the mist, the Gelth approached the bodies. Three identical screams rose from the throats of the murdered men.

The Doctor walked hastily around the corner when the men were out of sight. "That must be the bar they just came from."

The Bar. Such an original name for a… bar. Soon, the Doctor, Dean, and Jack were in the bar asking people who the drunkards were.

"The three men in tailcoats?" The bartender positioned her wig and saw the three through bloodshot eyes.

The Doctor answered. "Yes, middle aged, with beards. One had a derby hat."

The bartender leaned forward and stretched her hands with red nails on the Doctor's face. "For a taste of your friend over there, I might tell you who they really are," she said through lust-driven eyes.

The Doctor looked at Dean, then back at the bartender. He grabbed her by her real hair and by her wig and ripped clear plastic circles off the back of her neck. "Lust and fun. I thought I got rid of all these drugs."

The bartender fell behind the counter when the Doctor released his hand.

"Eh, Doctor?"

"What?"

"Where's Dean?"

The Doctor turned and saw Dean at the other end of the counter with a small shot glass filled with a green substance. "Dean! Don't drink that!"

Dean grinned. "Aw, c'mon, Doctor. It's just a shot."

"But that stuff is really-"

Dean titled his head back and took the liquid.

"Powerful."

He fell on the floor, choking and gagging and spitting green saliva with each cough. "Sweet mother of God that was… God!" Dean coughed some more, and struggling to his feet, he let out a burp. "My God, that was a bastard's drink. Anyway," he continued with a final gasp, "What'd you find out?"

"The three men are morticians. Not too far of a walk from here. Shall we?" The Doctor gestured towards the door.

Jack followed Dean and the Doctor outside, Dean giving an occasional cough with a red face. The bartender was standing outside, red wig blowing side to side. "Oh, it's you." She whimpered, gaping at the Doctor.

"Why don't you take us to the funeral home thing," Jack suggested.

"Sure."

The four of them walked down the muddy sidewalk. The only light seen was that of the streetlights that cast a bluish glow in their hair…

"Blue fog!" The Doctor took two hands, unsure of whose they were, and began to run. His pace quickened with every light step and eventually, he had to stop for the two he'd grabbed. He turned to see Dean and the red-headed bartender. However, Jack was nowhere to be found in the foggy night.

"Damn, for a 904 year old, you sure do run fast," Dean said.

"J-J-J-J…" The Doctor tried to manage the word Jack, but the cold, dry night air just left his lungs burning.

Dean immediately caught the Doctor as he fell, letting moans through the wind.

"Doctor, didn't you say he can't die?"

The Doctor began to cry, wiping tears onto his sleeves. "No! I cant lose another," he muttered. He thought to himself how many times he'd tried to lose Jack but it never worked. What would become of him now?

Dean knelt beside the Doctor, who was sitting peacefully on the ground, and was startled when the Doctor stood. "Take us to the mortuary."

As they approached, the red head looked up at the mortuary. "That's odd. What's happened to the sign?" Removing her wig, she knocked on the door, and with a quick response, it opened.

Dead bodies were laying on the floor and on the tables with sheets covering them head to toe. Behind them, in the very back, there stood good 'ole Jack.

"Jack!" Dean exclaimed, starting to walk to him.

The Doctor took him by the arm, suspending him in his tracks. "I wouldn't do that, Dean. He's taken by the Gelth."

"How can you tell?"

"You can see the empty blue in his eyes. That and he's not running to us with open arms. Question is, Dean, why isn't he moving?"

A scream rose in the red-head's throat.

"I dunno, but we're closed in!"


End file.
